Every day I watch the news that every day shows some part of the continent buried and/or deluged with new snow, new ice, old snow, which all adds up to a new disaster. My heart goes out to everyone who is record-breaking buried, or just plain buried, in the white stuff.
I’ve seen videos of people jumping and diving from their front steps, or even balconies, into endless drifts and banks of snow. I’ve also seen news clips and videos in other venues of people slipping, sliding, and falling, from the endless snow and endless ice.
Meanwhile, I sit here in Vancouver, the grass is green, the crocuses are in bloom, and my daffodils and tulips are all out and ready to flower shortly.
I can not complain about the rain, however endless.
I’ve been thinking of what people can do when it’s so cold and sometimes unsafe to be outside.
My first thought its, read. Read about summer vacations, and of course summer romances. Temporary breaks in far away warm and beautiful places. Then again, there are lots of books about two people being trapped in a snowstorm in an inaccessible mountain cabin. I’ve even written one of those. Although for me, that’s not a storyline I’d prefer to read about when I felt even somewhat trapped by the winter weather. One of the first novella anthologies I participated in was about a family of four brothers who owned and operated a resort in Hawaii. I wish I could have gone to Hawaii to do some research.
I’m trying to think of other books I have done over time where the weather played a big part in the storyline. I suppose The Train Stops Here as well, in that one in the opening of the book the hero is a hobo riding the train in the Great Depression. He couldn’t have done that in the middle of winter, although I think in those times of great desperation, people did.
While the weather is rough, I hope that everyone can stay warm and safe. And until it gets better, curl up with a hot coffee and a good book.